Sixty-Three

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     You and the marauders sat in the Great Hall, gazing at the mouthwatering display of food on the table. The Sorting Ceremony had just finished, and you laughed at the nervous-looking first years that walked to their seats. You reminisced of when you were just as young with your boyfriend, Sirius Black.
     You sat comfortably between Sirius's legs, your back on his chest with your legs crossed, taking up an entire bench. Sirius pressed his lips to your head, then growled when you wiggled your fingers at a first year. The young boy's eyes widened in alarm.
     "It's okay. I don't bite!" You laughed.
     "You may not..." You looked up at Sirius to catch his wink. You giggled, nudging his chest with your head.
     It had been almost all of break since you saw your boyfriend, and you were giddy in his presence.
     "Attention, students!" Dumbledore called. Everyone looked up, and the Hall quieted.
     Dumbledore began his opening speech.
James and Sirius glanced and chuckled to each other whenever Dumbledore said anything remotely odd, or if a new student had a particularly interesting reaction to one of his statements. He wrapped up his speech.
     "And remember to always, always, aim for the stars."
     "Aim for the stars, eh?" James took some mashed potatoes and grinned, looking at Sirius, who was playing with your hair.
"I'll aim for the stars," he muttered with a sly grin. He let the potatoes fly.
Sirius froze, the food sliding down his face. The Hall was silent. James smirked triumphantly.
"Think you're being funny, do you?" Sirius snarled. James shrugged innocently.
"You just started something you won't be able to finish...

"... FOOD FIGHT!" Sirius bellowed at the top of his lungs.

So began the Great Food Fight Of '71.

     There was steak and kidney pudding flying over people's heads, and screams filled the air. You were pelted with a piece of pie, and you threw a piece of pork in the thrower's general vicinity.
     You stood back to back with Sirius, fighting off hordes or people. The first years that had looked scared before were absolutely petrified now.
     "You get the right, I got the left, yeah?" Sirius shouted into your ear.
     "Got it!" You yelled back, shoving a slice of pie into a third year's face.
     You allowed your eyes to flick over to the teacher's table. The headmaster watched, delighted, whereas some of the other teachers looked a little worried.
     You chuckled to yourself and continued to fight. 
     "All right, all right, you've had your fun!" Dumbledore had stood up and magically projected his voice. He gazed over at you and the Marauders.
     "It's always you five, isn't it?" He shook his head.
     "Actually, Professor, James started it, sir." Sirius pointed to his best friend, a piece of asparagus caught in the folds of his robes.
     "I have no doubt it was one of you," he smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.
     "It was James," you confirmed, wringing the pumpkin juice out of your sweater.
     "You're all really shitty friends," James scoffed.
     "Language, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall scolded.
     "Sorry Minnie."
     "I suggest everyone go get cleaned up." There was a collective sigh of exasperation, and many glares in your direction.
     "I will send up House Elves immediately to deliver your food."
     There was a cheer.
     "Go!" He gestured to the doors.

     "That was fun," you grinned at your boyfriends, taking his hand and immediately letting go.
     "What?" He frowned and looked at it.
     "What is that?" You wiped your own hand off on your robes.
     "I... don't know..."
     "So... Prefect's Bathroom?"
     "Where else?"

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